Odyssey of Records
by Flaming skyline
Summary: A series of One-shots that centres around the working of the pair of polar opposites. GouFubu. Slight AU divergence in Canon-verse.


_To mock his intelligence with a simple act, it was like dealing with a more vocal and biting, less likeable version of Kidou._

* * *

/Cast Your Shadow/

Someoka wasn't a whiner. Well, apparently, he needed to rephrase once more that he wasn't _typically_ one, but right here, right now, he was definitely one.

Endou massaged his temple in that _how many times do I need to repeat before he gets it_ way. He was slumped forward, barely keeping himself standing with his white-knuckled fingers clutching the folded doors of the caravan. Half-moons hung beneath his droopy eyes, evident of how he was crudely woken up in the middle of the night. "Someoka, for the last time, sleeping arrangements have already been made and _everyone_ is practically asleep. If you want to switch, do it tomorrow. Frankly, no one likes to have their sleep disturbed the night before an _early_ morning training."

It was his damn fault, Someoka kept repeating to himself. Why, in the name of humanity, did he convince himself to stay behind for self-training while the team turned in for the night? Thus landing him next to Fubuki, which, for the most part, he would like to avoid. It wasn't like they were at each other's throats, no, it was the exact opposite. After the match with Gemini Storm, they seemed to come into a mutual understanding of each other, acknowledging one and another as teammates. Well, it was Someoka who kept delaying the inevitable, but heck, he wasn't a people person.

"Since you're up, switch with me," Someoka begged, on the verge of getting down on his knees to emphasize his point.

"What's wrong with you?" Endou said. "I thought you said–"

"I know what I've said," he quickly cut in. There was that internal cringe again that ebbed away at his pride. Not that it mattered anymore, considering it completely shattered the moment he passed the ball to Fubuki to make the winning the goal. "I'm just…confused, that's all."

True to his words, the first (to be more specific, the second) time Someoka laid his eyes on him, he knew that the both of them wouldn't get along. Even if the aliens took over the Earth and possibly lead humanity to extinction, it would take more than that to convince him to even survive in a room alone with him without initiating some sort of fistfight, let alone trying to see him as a fellow teammate.

The so-called bear killer was a midget. Yeah, Someoka saw his fair share during the majority of his life, girls mostly (not like he was being sexist or anything), and a couple of boys. It was a bit exaggerating, too, considering he wasn't _that_ short, he was just below average. And believe him, no amount of growth spurt could help the kid. Either that or it could be that Someoka was priding himself over the fact that he towered over Gouenji and his future replacement, unless he had something to do with it.

Maybe it was that that did it. He was being sidelined so easily by the team when an opportunity arrived in their hands. Gouenji was like the team's beacon of hope, someone to rely on when in chaos, someone to lean on when in misery. This time, with him gone, his replacement would be taking that spot. Not Someoka, never him, even though he had been sticking around longer than most of them. Now, he had to admit that he was always going to be the second wheel that others would only look to when the first one was missing. Despite being a spare, the team had its doubts; he was never going to be good enough.

So he ran. Not the dramatic display of shoving people aside and storming out, mind you. No, he was going at it the cold, mean guy way as most would put it. He let out a scoff at the offered handshake before walking out on their meeting. And he was so sure that this marked the start of a catastrophic rivalry that would result in the breaking of the world a whole lot sooner than its alien invasion process.

Yet, the game had rocked his world into a hundred-and-eighty-degree spiral. The jealousy whenever his teammates passed the ball to the grey-haired striker; the hatred of accepting the fact that he was replacing Gouenji in every possible way by getting a little to cozy with the team; the pain of seeing each and every one of his friends casting the thought of the fire striker out of their minds in favour of this arrogant brat with an occasional big mouth, who knew which buttons to push to spike him further into insanity—all had been erased, allowing room for scepticism to settle in, claiming a spot next to his good side.

And this…didn't sit well with him.

It was difficult to engage in a proper conversation with him without Someoka, himself, reduced into a state of stupidity. Most of his comebacks stuck in his throat during their encounters. So completely opposed to his character, he stayed quiet, giving head gestures in response. This had took a turn for the worse when this behaviour of his had been dubbed a humiliation to his dignity. He, at present, skirted round the midget like a plague. The boy at question did take notice of his unusual dilemma. With the raised eyebrows and discreet glances directed at Someoka, it wasn't hard to figure out. Fortunately, the ice striker decided it wasn't his business to meddle with.

Someoka shook his head. This sounded like some kind of soup opera from the sixties.

"Look," Endou said, snapping Someoka out of his thoughts. "Everyone is tired from training and probably coping with the fact that this isn't going to be over anytime soon. Do everyone a favour and cooperate. At least do it for Gouenji's sake, okay? Someoka, it's just _one_ night." The word was stressed with a condescending tone, effectively shutting him up into stunned silence.

"Fine." The reply came after a long pause. "Alright, I'll do it."

Endou grinned. "Great," he said, giving the striker a clap on the back. "You got this."

* * *

"No, I don't." Someoka glared at the beige ceiling of the caravan, willing this whole night to end in another minute or simply for the ceiling to collapse and crush him to death, ending his long, suffering misery. It was one thing about being physically exhausted, but to go through insomnia at the same time? That was overkill.

Endou was on the other side of the caravan, beside Kazemaru, already out and into dreamland. That lucky idiot.

On the other hand, Someoka had spent probably ten minutes tossing and turning in his seat, bundled up in his sleeping bag. He made sure to scoot back to the edge when he got too close to the other striker. The bastard was breathing deeply in his sleep, vapour slipping through his slightly parted lips in small puffs, not freezing his ass off without a comforter, completely exposed to the night air of Akita and did he mention that the region they stopped at could drop to three degrees in average?

Superb. He wasn't just a soccer player who aced in the fields of offense and defense, a bear killer, an ice princess, but now with an immunity system of a vampire? He didn't sound too crazy anyway. Minus the immortal life, he sure would be the evidence for the existence of vampires in those sappy romance novels that his aunt kept in drawers in her room.

Someoka shuddered involuntarily. Those god-awful hours of listening to her when she was asked to babysit him when he was little. The world needed to be spared from an Edward.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

 _Holy shit!_ Someoka jerked away violently. It took every ounce in him to not yelp like a little girl. _Damn bastard was awake the whole time!_ Surprised soon morphed into confusion, then utter foolishness when he felt the empty space beneath him. He was falling.

The back of his jersey was immediately snatched by a strong grip, hoisting him back into the seat with strained effort and a soft grunt. "Next time, scream a little louder. I don't think the aliens heard you," came a dry voice. "Spare me from your uncomfortable stare. Really, Someoka-kun, the least you could've done was to be discreet about it."

He mentally congratulated himself for the scowl that pulled at his lips, out of reflex at his wounded ego, instead of looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Staring was rude. He had no qualms about the sound statement. But attacking his _technique_ and the wrongs of his execution in a deadpanned, non-caring way was downright insulting. Then again, staring was creepy when the person on the receiving end was blissfully unaware (which, he argued, the bastard wasn't).

Someoka twisted around in his position to face the object of his emotional torture, after having rolled over by gravity's force during his near fall. Fubuki squinted at him through a haze that persistently clouded the edges of his consciousness, like he was tilting dangerously close to darkness. A frown marred his slack features, toning down the disapproval of choosing this particular night for his seat-mate to experience a case of sleeplessness, which without a doubt served as a problem to him.

"I wasn't staring," Someoka said quickly. The silent accusation threw him off, feeling the need to defend himself despite the contradicting events that led up to this predicament. "I was just…thinking about stuff. You just so happened to be there."

The other was unamused, not buying one bit.

Someoka was reminded again why the midget pissed him off to no end. To mock his intelligence with a simple act, it was like dealing with a more vocal and biting, less likeable version of Kidou. Or maybe he was just reading it too far. He thought once, twice, a third time – all the while noting the slight brewing irritation within those gray orbs as the minutes ticked by – finally concluding that it was too much of a hassle to tolerate. He gave his back to him, letting out a huff. "Nothing," he muttered, later accompanied by a low string of curses to whatever deity out there that had the nerve to afflict him with social disabilities.

There was a long, blown out sigh. "If you have something to say, then might as well spit it out. Dragging this drama any longer will affect the team's morales."

"It wasn't on purpose. Forget about it and go back to sleep."

"There you go, dodging the question, _again_." Exasperation evident in his weary voice. "The number of unnecessary misplays you've made, even Endou-kun is bothered. A day with him is enough to disclose that his worries are a far cry from being a minor issue."

"It's called spacing out. Everyone does it. Some do it more regularly than others." Someoka had to restraint the bitterness from showing as he continued, unhindered. "Having our comrade replaced by a stranger doesn't exactly make this truce anymore stable, much less favourable. We just happened to share the same foes."

A hum in understanding. "The lesser of two evils."

Silence reigned, broken by the shuffling of body mass against cushions, loud snoring from the back and the unmistakable mumbling somewhere off to the left. Someoka knew it wasn't a great idea. Chances were, his friends could be eavesdropping and he wouldn't know. It was a miracle that none of them stirred from his manly yell. For once, he was actually grateful to the coach. He squashed that notion no sooner than a second, his mind arguing that the cause of this situation was her to begin with.

"I don't hate you," Someoka said. The finality in his voice shocked him, the buried questions suddenly were there to guide him. "During the match with Gemini Storm, my shoot didn't go in the first time. How did you know that it would work for the second time?"

"For a technique to evolve, certain conditions are required. Snowboarding helped with balance and speed training, but it takes sufficient amount of time for your body to properly adjust to your new limits."

"So all that fooling around wasn't for nothing?" A part of him hoped he was wrong and he had every right to hate him. The other part knew nothing good would come out of his childish mindset.

"I had to set the perfect environment for you. It's distracting to have unwanted obstacles in the way, I merely removed them. Forcing their attention onto myself was the key. The pass caught them off guard." There was a nervous chuckle, faintly unsure of his next words. "I guess there was a tad of psychological manipulation I did there. Didn't think aliens would fall for it and express surprisingly human reactions." The last sentence was whispered, sounding a little too interested for Someoka's taste. Aliens were aliens. He didn't give a crap of their origins or colony up in space. But he wasn't going to judge the other male for having a natural sense of curiosity for alien history (no matter how insane it was in his opinion), so he bit back another insult.

"Even though you could have gotten the same result by yourself?"

The lack of response was his answer. He saw this coming from a mile away; all the same he dreaded the realization that he was only on the team for image purposes. It hurt to have his own worthlessness laugh in his face after months of denial, but the pain faded into a dull numbing headache. Winning the Football Frontier sugarcoated his wound when all it did was hid the waiting buckets of salt.

Someoka drew his eyes shut. _I knew it. Whether it's Gouenji or Fubuki, I can't ever beat them, can I? Funny how long it took me to accept that fact._ The fatigue seemed to catch up to him at that instant. _At least, after knowing that, I can finally..._ Losing his battle with the darkness, defeat had never felt so peaceful.

The frictional brush came first, then the sensation of floating in vacancy. Was it always this heavenly when insomnia called for a retreat?

A booming bang resounded within the closed walls.

Twenty-seven seconds after face planting into the filthy caravan floor littered with shoe marks and stumbling through a disorientated blur, everything clicked into place as he right his body onto his back after wrestling with his sleeping bag.

He had been shoved. Off his seat. And possibly been given a broken nose. By none other than the bastard himself.

Fubuki appeared, his face hovered a good distance above his because the urge to pound the asshole into oblivion was way too appealing and Someoka did not trust his limbs to stay quiet. "Someoka-kun, you're smart, maybe not to Kidou-kun's extent and more often than not, putting impulsiveness ahead of your brain, but the last thing I need is to find out under that bravado belongs solely in another category. The oblivious section, not what I expected from you."

"Shut it," Someoka grumbled, his hand going to his nose. "My nose is killing me."

Fubuki, in turn, ignored this. "You want to know what I think? You have been lingering in the dark for far too long that you can't bear to even think yourself as an equal. Your hostility towards me, it doesn't look like I'm the problem to begin with nor am I the first. Even Gouenji-kun had seen through you. Don't look so surprised. The team likes to reminisce a lot. His name is bound to pop up at one point."

Someoka closed his gaping mouth. He had avoided these small gatherings, somehow irked at the treatment Gouenji was receiving at his absence, almost like he was an old, worn tool tossed for recycling.

"Fact is, this isn't about who is better or who should be one taking the trophy. Why do you think we have a team for? I'm not going to pull an impractical victory, hothead."

Moments after Fubuki crawled back to his side of the seat, Someoka sat up precariously. He stared at the careless drape of the team's jersey over the small back, wondering whether he truly was lying to himself up to this conversation. Gouenji saw it. Fubuki said it. It was the last thing he expected to happen, for two people in his life he'd blacklisted to teach him to stop chasing shadows.

One day, Someoka hoped he could shape his own shadow beside theirs.

* * *

Author's Note: Doing this is easier to work with and a lower possibility of being stuck on Writer's block for this long. So the following one-shots won't be in a sequence but they are still part of the same timeline I have created. I will mention the order if necessary in some chapters. On a side note, I hope you guys get the gist why this is not a GouFubu-centric one-shot (though a hint of it). Supporting characters play a significant role in shaping the stories surrounding them and possibly giving the readers an outside point og view of their connection. Don't worry, the next one focuses on them. Hope you like this. If not, then all well. :)


End file.
